


From The Shores Of Lemon Creek Park

by mansikka



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Body Horror, Eldritch, Environment, Family, Friendship, Future Fic, Love, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Mystery, New York, New York Shadowhunter Institute, POV Alec Lightwood, Possession, ancient beings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-12-24 21:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21106598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Alec and Magnus return to the New York Institute to give Izzy a much-needed vacation. She has barely stepped through the portal before trouble arrives in the shape of a Mundane. He is carrying a message about a fate that is about to descend on them all. Can they prevent what is coming if they figure it out in time?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here is a short multichapter that was supposed to be Halloween-y but ended up involving no skeletons, pumpkins, or any of the usual Halloween paraphernalia. Though it is a little creepy, so, it still fits! Kinda... Happy reading!

The first lights appear in the waters off the shoreline of Lemon Creek Park. It is a dull, misty morning around about dawn when a fisherman, up early since he couldn't sleep, first sees the soft orange glow out in Princes Bay. There are seven lights that Ciaran Marsh counts, arranged in a perfect cluster formation drifting closer to the shore. To him, they look like large, luminous eyes that are daring him to blink, or even to look away. He knows that he shouldn't, a cold prickling creep working its way up the back of his neck telling him that he can't. Though also that he _must_; Ciaran finds himself standing even without intending on doing it, his fishing rod jolting from his grip and thudding softly in the sand by his feet.

A cool, damp mist surrounds him, cocoons him, leaving his flesh clammy and his mind thick with ideas that aren't his own. Though he knows he is walking, deep into the water, until he's submerged up to chest height. Ciaran is surprised to find that the water is warm.

_They_ come to him; calling, soothing, mocking, _something_ stretching out beneath the water's surface locking around his limbs to hold him in place. He'd call out, but who would hear him? Who would see him? Who would believe all that is to come? Nobody. Ciaran is alone in the world.

Ciaran is aware of his forearm being extended for him, and a deep, burning shape being carved into his skin. When the last tendrils of heat sting in his veins he is released, finding himself standing on the shore looking out over the water, alone once again. Though he is no longer alone. _They_ are with him, a part of him, a window into a world that was previously unknown. Returning to a land that has always been theirs for the claiming. When will these foolish, wasteful, destructive humans ever learn?

Ciaran finds himself walking, a sure and steady pace that is both heavier and more sure-footed than his own. The world goes on around him, spinning, turning, taking everything for granted. Can't they feel what is to come? Have they always known what he now knows? _They_ tell him no, that mankind has walked this path so many times over the centuries, millennia even. They are never prepared for their coming. They are never aware that it is _them_ who calls them back to the shores with their ways. So he should not be afraid. Really, they are here to help. Ciaran knows no one will see it that way.

As he walks, Ciaran is sure he is seeing things in his city for the very first time. There are _people_ here that aren't mere people at all. Outside a cafe, he can see three sat together huddled around a table. One has red scales over their face and arms, while the other has a cat-like tail that curls around the table leg, tapping as though impatient, or bored. The third has a collar-like _growth_ covering their entire neck that makes Ciaran think of writhing centipedes. His heart tells him to speed up to pass, though that steady pace of _them_ keeps him from doing anything but observe.

His feet continue to carry him forward, all the scents and sounds of the city far sharper on his senses than he has ever known before. He can hear a rat scurrying down the alley to the back of a bar, can smell the burn of tire into road that follows the screech of brakes from a couple of blocks over. Though he doesn't turn to look; Ciaran only sees what _they_ want him to see, what _they_ are curious about and want to observe. A pointy-eared man with a lightness of step that makes Ciaran want to scurry in the other direction. A tall, loping figure in the distance that he knows without question is more wolf than man.

Though it is the dark-clad tattooed people whose skin seems to shimmer that call to him in familiarity for the thing he is looking for. He knows to follow at a distance, that these are the target he has been told to seek out. He finds himself on the steps of an old church, his vision flickering like an old holographic image between what he can see, and what he knows is there. He has to be inside the church, talk to the people there. He has _things_ to tell them; things they won't want to know, yet have to understand. Ciaran makes his way up the steps feeling the change in the air when he steps inside.

* * *

"Make sure you—"

"_Iz_."

Alec laughs as he grips Izzy just above her elbows telling her to _stop_, leaning firm so that she can't easily break from his grasp.

"I just want to make sure everything is perfect," she says, giving the slightest shrug of a shoulder telling him to get _off_. Alec steps back immediately, waving away concerns as he perches on the edge of the desk.

"Iz. You deserve a break. You deserve a _vacation_. When was the last time you even left this Institute, huh?"

"Saturday morning. We went for pancakes," Simon adds as he walks in clasping Alec's arm in passing, coming to a stop by Izzy's side and dropping two bags down on the floor. Alec feels the urge to glower, just a little; didn't Simon used to at least pretend to quake in his presence? Or was that just him pretending that he did? Either way, Alec knows he can't scowl at Simon _too_ much these days. Isn't he the one who helps keep that almost permanent smile on Izzy's face?

"Right. That's exactly my point," Alec says, waving towards the angel stained-glass window behind them. Pointless, since they can't exactly see outside. "Today's _Wednesday_. You telling me you haven't been outside this place since _Saturday_?"

"Alec, it's just been busy, okay?" Izzy says with an eye roll and a glower that makes Alec feel at home. After all, didn't all this used to be _him_?

"Yeah. I might know a thing or two about that."

"We had three breaches down by the Hudson," Izzy says as she picks up a tablet. "One of the old sewers in Yonkers backed up, and half a dozen Mundanes had to be monitored because of their wounds."

"Demon attack?"

"No," Izzy says after a pause, "luckily not. They turned out to be rat bites."

"Big ones," Simon adds for her, pretending to shudder though still smiling, taking the tablet from her grasp and putting it back on the desk—with far less complaint from Izzy than Alec knows _he_ would have got had he tried such a thing.

"But we did need to patrol for—"

"_Izzy_," Alec says, once again waving to cut her off. "I'm sure I'll get all the details from Underhill."

"_Andrew_," she corrects in reproach.

"Right. _Andrew_," Alec amends, having grown used to Andrew only being _Andrew_ outside of work. Andrew will probably suggest dinner, which means subjecting him and Magnus to an evening in Lorenzo's company. Alec almost groans out loud for the thought but reins it in.

"I just want—"

"Izzy," Alec says with a little more force, a little more volume. "It's not like I haven't run an Institute before. _This_ Institute, I might point out. And you're only going away for a week. Exactly how much trouble do you think I can cause in a _week_, huh? Who am I, Jace?"

"You'll contact me if there are any problems?" Izzy says trying not to smile. Alec keeps the smirk from his face for the way Simon discreetly shakes his head, mouthing at him not to.

"Of course."

"And if there is—"

"Would you just _go_?" Alec says, laughing as he stands back up and pointing towards the door, as footsteps announce someone approaching.

"Ah, there you all are."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Alec grins for Magnus walking in to join them in his former office, watching the almost-fond way he surveys the room. Magnus has a small, private smile for him even as he opens a portal, waving Izzy and Simon forward and encouraging them to leave. Simon stoops to pick up their bags, throwing an arm around Izzy's shoulders and slowly towing her closer to the portal. Anyone would think she didn't want to take a vacation.

Izzy sighs as she gives the office a final glance over, gently squeezing Magnus' arm as she passes, and throwing Alec a look over her shoulder even as she steps through. The sound of the portal closing behind them leaves the room in silence. Magnus hums as though pleased with his work, then moves to step straight into Alec's arms.

"The Bahamas?" Alec asks as he loops his arms around his waist, knowing Izzy's vacation destination in detail from Simon's excited commentary at dinner last night.

"Of course. In that hotel you like so much."

"The one right by the beach," Alec agrees as he sways him. They have made some beautiful memories there.

"It feels strange to be back here, doesn't it?" Magnus asks, leaning against him, still half-looking around.

"Really strange. Even stranger for us staying _here_ for the week."

"Well. We could have taken a hotel."

"I know," Alec says as he kisses him, "but that would have felt even more strange. Coming back to New York and staying in a hotel?"

"We could have stayed with your mother," Magnus points out with a teasing smile, because he already knows Alec's objection to that.

"With Luke dropping in all the time?" Alec says, grimacing at the thought of what he might accidentally see. "Magnus. How do you know he wouldn't try to use you as a more convenient portal service if we did that?"

"Oh, so _that's_ your only objection."

"I have lots of _objections_, which you know," Alec says, already smiling and forgetting those objections for the look of delight in Magnus' eyes.

"In great detail."

"And besides, we haven't been here in the Institute in a while."

"I am sure Jace is enjoying having his parabatai back to spar with," Magnus says with his eyes now crinkling in amusement.

"Magnus. He made me get out of bed at five."

"So that's why I woke to an empty bed," Magnus says, laughing as Alec continues to sway him. "I don't approve."

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow," Alec promises.

"Oh, you will?"

"I will. Maybe even tonight."

"Really, now," Magnus says, nosing Alec's jaw so he'll turn his head, and beginning to mouth over his Deflect rune. "Well, how about—"

"Sorry."

Alec feels Magnus' entire body stiffen with irritation and has to rein in another smile. Andrew, to his credit, gives them both an apologetic wince for interrupting them.

"It's fine," Alec says, waving him forward. After all, he is here to work. "What is it?"

"Well," Andrew says as he darts his eyes from Magnus tucking into Alec's side, then up to Alec's face. "There's someone in one of our cells I think you might want to speak to. Or if you don't, I'd sure like some guidance on what you think we should do with them."

"Who is it?" Alec says, gesturing to say that he'll follow him. Once, Magnus might have held back, made himself busy elsewhere in the Institute for all the unfriendly eyes following him as he walked. He doesn't fear that now, falling into stride beside Alec and Andrew the moment they step out into the hall.

"His name is Ciaran Marsh," Andrew says as they get down to the lower levels.

"Okay?"

"He's a Mundane," Andrew adds, shaking his head in obvious confusion. "He just walked right in, right up to me. Showed me his driver's license."

"A Mundane?" Why would a Mundane just walk into the Institute unannounced? And more to the point, why would they see anyone here once inside?

"He says he has a warning. A message, really. Something about a monster coming, or something," Andrew says, shaking his head. "Honestly? He wasn't making a lot of sense."

"Well, first, why does a Mundane even know the Institute is here?" Alec asks as they make their way down to the cells. "Was he sent here? How does he even know we're here?"

"There is a mark on his arm. Like a rune; one that's been carved in. It's fresh," Andrew adds, visibly shuddering. "I assume it's given him the Sight. Though I can't say how."

"Right." Alec doesn't believe that, not for a second. Though as they come to a stop outside the cell, a stocky, dark-haired Mundane slowly rises to his feet and steps towards the glass staring back at him. Alec isn't sure if this Ciaran sees him or not for the way he appears to be staring right through him.

"They are coming," Ciaran says, his voice raspy, and deep, and to Alec's mind not one that belongs to him at all.

"Who are coming?" he asks, humoring him, not liking the way the man doesn't even seem to blink.

"Them. They are coming."

"Okay...?"

"They are coming for _you_," Ciaran adds, with a glint in his eye that coils something cold around Alec's heart, even if he doesn't know why.

"Well. He is mostly Mundane," Magnus says as he flares his magic for another beat then drops his hands down by his sides, head tilted in thought.

"Mostly? What does mostly mean?" Alec asks. He can feel Andrew bristling by his side with far more pressing questions.

"It is almost as though he is incubating something that is... a part of this world, but perhaps shouldn't be."

"Meaning, what? Demon?"

"No," Magnus replies, his voice quiet; almost in awe. "Though it is something old. Something that has walked this earth alongside our ancestors. Evolved with them perhaps, but unseen."

Andrew's impatience is more visible as he shifts from foot to foot. Alec gives him a look that brings him to a stop. He understands that impatience, though right now Alec is more intrigued by what Magnus is telling him. He does take a step closer to the glass of the cell to better observe who, or what is inside.

"Careful, Alexander," Magnus says, lightly gripping his arm. "I don't know what we should expect here."

"Can he harm us?"

"I don't know."

"You could just ask me."

The three of them take a step back as Ciaran moves closer to the glass, observing them all with an amused smile. He lifts his head, giving an unnatural flicker of his eyes as he blinks and a shiver that is reminiscent of something fluid rippling through his body.

Magnus' grip on Alec's arm tightens. Alec turns his wrist to loosen it though presses his palm against Magnus' lower back, drawing him near.

"What do you want to tell us?" Alec asks, that tendril of coldness creeping further through him as Ciaran splays his fingers against the glass. His skin is becoming translucent, the blue of his veins standing vivid against the waxy paleness of his flesh. Alec's stomach gives a violent lurch when he realizes there is a stretch of webbing growing between his fingers.

"Only this," Ciaran says, his eyes flaring in triumph for Alec's attention. "That is it time. It has been time. And they are returning. This world is theirs to reclaim."

"What does that even mean?" Andrew asks with a huff of disbelief. Though that huff turns to something else entirely, when Ciaran raises his other hand to the glass splaying his clammy fingers against it, then lets his head fall back. There is a rasping sound that seems to come from somewhere deep within him, though also from beyond him. His body begins to jolt, a short, sharp convulsion as though he is struggling to breathe. But though Alec's first instinct is to help, to step into the cell and try to stop whatever is constricting his breathing, Magnus' hand clasps firm around his wrist telling him not to move.

"Look," Magnus says, barely above a whisper. Alec follows the point of his finger as Ciaran straightens up, his eyes now a pale, milky green color with his pupils and irises barely visible beneath. He jolts and coughs, a fine spray erupting from his mouth and spraying a mist over the glass. Which spreads. Magnus pulls on Alec's wrist, the three of them stepping back further from the glass, Alec's eyes on the cell door to reassure himself that it is sealed.

"Is the air contained in there?" Magnus asks, with fear in his voice that sets off further alarm for Alec. It is rare that Magnus is fearful of anything unknown; more often than not, he's fascinated.

"As much as it can be. Why?"

Magnus points to the steamed-up glass in front of them, continuing to pull Alec away. A green mass begins to writhe and move within the mist fogging on the glass, spreading out and further apart.

"Spores," Magnus says, as the lights above them begin to flicker.


	3. Chapter 3

The lower levels of the Institute are sealed off by both a series of physical measures and some enhanced wards from Magnus. Alec sends patrols out into the city, with Jace leading one to Lemon Creek Park when Andrew tells him this is a place that Ciaran mentioned repeatedly. There is nothing waiting on the shore for them when they arrive, but there are strange marks in the sand.

"It's like some kind of eel or something, carving its way in, and up," Jace says as he video calls, turning the phone for Magnus and Alec to see while sat in Izzy's office. "That, or it's some kind of writing. Can't really tell; half of it's been washed away."

"Ciaran's fishing equipment is still here," Clary adds as she steps into view, a gloved hand clutching on to a box filled with bait for the fish.

"Okay. Well, if there's nothing there, take pictures, and head back. Be careful," Alec adds even though it's unnecessary. A part of him fears that, being Jace and Clary, they will find a reason to disobey his order and explore further. But Jace ends the call saying he'll return in a few minutes, so Alec pushes that concern from his thoughts.

"It's good to have her back, isn't it," Magnus says as he leans over Alec's shoulder, reaching around him to type something on his laptop so several images pop up on the screen.

"It is," Alec agrees. Clary was lost to them for a little over a year, but now that she's back it is almost as though she never went anywhere. Except for Jace, who follows her around as though he intends to cherish her, and never let her out of his sight again. Alec leans his head back for a kiss, covering Magnus' forearm with his hand, never missing an opportunity to cherish Magnus.

"Alexander. Have you heard of these?" Magnus says after bumping his forehead against his shoulder, calling Alec's attention back to the laptop.

Alec takes in the paintings and drawings of sea creatures that look part human and part aquatic, thinking of the stories of mermaids and sirens that he devoured as a kid. "You think Ciaran is talking about these?"

"The way those spores erupted from him, yes," Magnus replies. "The legends I know of speak of a sleeping sickness that is passed on through a kiss."

"A kiss?"

"Yes," Magnus says, claiming another kiss and winking. "Though I imagine whatever this is, is passed on through breathing in those spores."

"And you think they're... these things?" Alec asks, remembering the growing webbing between Ciaran's fingers.

"Well. I suppose we know nothing at this stage. Only that we will need to investigate further."

"Wasn't there that thing a couple of years back about a squid attacking a Mundane, or something?" Alec asks, wracking his brain for the news story he remembers reading but can't remember all the details of.

"I think so."

"Maybe it was some jellyfish sting, or octopus, or something," Alec adds as he muses. He's heard of their venom being deadly and hallucinogenic. Maybe that is all that happened to Ciaran Marsh. He hopes so; Alec wants this to be a nice, quiet week here at the New York Institute, where he and Magnus catch up with old friends and acquaintances, and generally enjoy a quieter pace of life. The Angel knows they'll have their work cut out for them when they return to Alicante; just the thought of it makes Alec want them to start planning their next vacation.

"Do you have any work to do from home?" Alec asks with a discreet look towards the office door. Magnus takes the hint and without breaking eye contact slams it closed. Alec smiles, nudges for him to move, then scrapes back his chair to make room.

"Not yet. Though I haven't taken the time to look. We've barely had a moment here, really," Magnus adds, dropping into Alec's lap and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

"True," Alec agrees, looping his arms around Magnus' waist. "I suppose I should go over all these lists Izzy left."

"I wonder where she got the idea to be an overachieving workaholic," Magnus says in tease as he kisses him, smiling against Alec's mouth.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really, now. Because I happen to remember—"

"Oh. Sorry."

Magnus and Alec turn as one for the office door thudding back against the wall, with Andrew hovering uncertainly in the doorway clutching hold of a tablet.

"It's okay," Alec says, holding Magnus by the waist as he stands back up, muttering under his breath. "What is it?"

* * *

"Ciaran," Andrew says, and as he comes closer, Alec can see the fear in his eyes. He nods for Andrew to send whatever has him so worried-looking to the laptop, waiting for the images to unpixelate.

Ciaran fills the screen, wretching and writhing, his skin growing more pallid as his limbs seem to lengthen. Those spores pouring from his mouth have multiplied leaving the air with a faintly green hue.

"Is he... what's he doing?" Alec asks, as Magnus and Andrew both lean over the desk to study the images with him.

"Turn the volume up."

An eerie rhythmic hum fills the air as Magnus clicks to increase the volume. To Alec, it almost sounds like an old sea shanty like those he and Magnus heard at a reenactment event while visiting Norway. None of the words are ones he can make out, if they are even words at all. But the noise spilling from Ciaran's mouth is building, and growing stronger, as though it is a siren call for others to join in.

Ciaran convulses before their eyes then, doubling over backward like Alec has seen Mundanes do under demonic possession. Only this isn't anything demon; it feels ancient, and noble, almost, even through the screen.

"So, you think this is them, Magnus? Those old… _beings_ you were thinking about?" Alec asks. How can he deny any potential lead, even one he's never heard of before, when the Clave are forever saying that all the legends are true?

"It's a possibility. Though we really do need to know more. Perhaps Jace and his team will return with details that will help," Magnus adds, though sounds as doubtful as Alec feels.

"Right."

"What's that?" Andrew says then with a horrified gasp, the three of them jolting back from the image on the screen. The resounding crack of a spine being severed in two fills the room, though when he straightens back up Ciaran is somehow taller, more strong-looking. From the expression on his face, however, it is clear that _Ciaran_ is no more. His eyes are wider and rounder, and the shape of his mouth and nose shifted on his face. He is rigid as he stares out of his cell across the room he's being held in, with a slight curling up of his lips into a horrific, sickening grin.

Whatever is in that cell beneath their feet is no longer Mundane.

"I need to know more about these things," Alec says as he stares at the screen wanting to be fully prepared before reporting to the Clave. "Their history, their numbers. What they might want on land."

"I'll find out all I can," Magnus replies, absently summoning a chair from the other side of the desk and sitting, then turning the laptop towards him.

"Let's just keep this between us for right now," Alec tells Andrew, with a glance at the door to make sure no one is listening. "At least until all our patrols come back."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

The reports from the other patrols in the city don't show anything unusual. Alec and Magnus survey the few photos taken by Jace down at Lemon Creek Park but can see nothing that might be a clue. Ciaran is still staring unseeingly down in that cell. Alec wants to study him, and at least take him some food, but can't risk exposing anyone to those spores.

Ciaran's fingers have grown longer since they saw him face to face, stretched and splayed against the glass of his cell. That webbing between his fingers is more visible even in the camera trained on him. All his features seem more enhanced, sharper looking, as though everything about him is glinting with intent. Every time Alec glances his way, he gets the impression Ciaran is _laughing_. Without him even opening his mouth.

Alec tries to focus on other tasks, going over the run-of-the-mill reports that keep the Institute functioning as normal. A few Shadowhunters that he hasn't yet seen since arriving come into the office just to say hello, with warm smiles of greeting for both Alec and Magnus as they catch up on their news. Magnus is touched for their efforts, even if he doesn't say so out loud.

The Institute goes on as it always does, a quiet thrumb of action everywhere Alec turns. Izzy has the place in perfect working order, implementing some changes that have only improved the way everything runs. Alec is impressed and proud, though never doubted for a second what his sister is capable of.

Lunch Magnus portals in to the Institute, getting a little more than is necessary so that they can share with their friends. Over pizza, Clary and Jace catch them up on the few things they haven't yet got around to telling them, and Andrew is unshakably unembarrassed by his affection for Lorenzo. Magnus nudges Alec beneath the table for the indignant look on Andrew's face at even the _hint_ that Lorenzo is showy.

When Alec returns to work leaving Magnus to catch up with Catarina, Ciaran is still standing statue-like in his cell. That same sense of amusement filters through the security camera to Alec sending a chill over the back of his neck. He watches him out of the corner of his eye, determined to get his regular work done.

There is a dispute with a pack of werewolves in rivalry with Maia's pack, their alpha a pompous, blustering soul who Alec takes an instant dislike to. Maia is astonishing throughout the meeting never backing down, never once wavering. Perhaps because she knows Alec has her back, but also because she knows that she is right.

"You gonna be okay?" he asks after the other pack leader has left, gesturing for Maia to sit so the two of them can talk for a while.

"Oh, we'll be fine. Guy's just looking for something to complain about. There's no real rivalry here; not to us, anyway. Their pack is basically up in Woodlawn; there's no reason for the two to even come into contact _to_ argue."

"Well. If you need anything, or you want somewhere neutral for any future meetings, I'm sure Izzy will arrange anything you need."

"She will," Maia agrees, with a teasing smile, "it's good to have a Head of Institute that listens once in a while."

Alec snorts with laughter then catches her up on what is happening in Idris, which predominantly to Maia means Luke. They share groans of embarrassment as Alec recalls a dinner at his and Magnus' where they caught Luke and his _mother_ making out.

When there are no new things to share, Alec walks her to the office door, hugging Maia goodbye and watching her walk away. He looks down the hall outside the office watching Shadowhunters go about their usual business, smiling for the memories he's created here.

Alec goes back to work, engrossed in the report he is reading, but still aware of Ciaran out of the corner of his eye. He smiles as he hears Magnus' familiar footfall getting closer, sitting up and tossing his pen to the desk. Though his smile falters for the look on Magnus' face, and the way his hands wring nervously in front of him.

"Alexander," he says breathlessly as he rushes towards him, "come outside. I think we may have a problem."

* * *

The city has been inundated with a thick, soup-like mist, that when Alec sucks in a breath to sample reminds him of brine. He stands on the Institute steps with Magnus right beside him as other Shadowhunters pour out of the building to observe the ominous, darkening sky. There is a rumble in the distance that speaks of thunder, though to Alec sounds more like an approaching wave. Clary hands him a tablet then, a look of fear beginning to creep into her expression. Aerial views of New York show the mist is billowing in and settling over the city, its point of origin seeming to be the shoreline of Lemon Creek Park.

"What do you think?" Jace says as he comes to join them, even his attention focused on the darkening skies overhead.

"Could be bad weather?" Alec says even if he doesn't believe it. Magnus' hand is a comfort hovering at his back that he presses into, even as he turns to smile at him with reassurance that he doesn't feel.

"Looks like your patrol is returning," Magnus says as he leans into him, nodding to the Shadowhunters approaching. Alec had sent another out to monitor the situation on the streets, for feeling like he is clutching at straws.

"Anything?" Alec asks as the first Shadowhunter jogs up the steps towards him, panting as he catches his breath.

"This mist. It's everywhere," he says, waving behind him and straightening only when another Shadowhunter clasps him on the shoulder. "It came up out of nowhere just rolling in on the horizon."

"Any signs of anything unusual? Aside from that?"

"Nothing. If anything, it's quieter out there. In the city, I mean."

They are right. When Alec listens, instead of the usual quiet roar of traffic and blasts of sirens ringing out, all he can hear is a nervous watchful kind of hum.

"We saw a few of the regulars from the Hunters Moon all standing together on the street corner just… looking up," a second Shadowhunter says. "They don't look like they know what is happening either."

"Meteorological reports are showing nothing," Andrew adds quietly as he steps up from behind then, turning a tablet for Alec to look. "Mundane news reports are talking about a strange weather phenomenon. But this isn't a storm, or a hurricane, or anything. There is nothing to suggest it's a cloud formation, or—well. I don't know what to think."

"That aerial shot is pointing back at the Park? Lemon Creek?" Jace says taking the tablet from Alec's hands.

"Looks that way."

"Okay. I can put a team together, go back out, see if we can see if we missed anything."

"Do it," Alec agrees, watching Jace as he calls out and a group begins to form around him.

"We should consider additional security here. Perhaps reorganize more patrols. Cover the Mundane social media for strange reports," Andrew adds, standing to attention as though waiting for Alec's instructions.

"So _that's_ what you do all day on these computers. Twitter and Instagram?" Magnus asks. Alec schools in a snort of laughter for the raised eyebrow and tone in his voice directed at Andrew, mouthing _jealous_ at him when he looks.

"It's part of it," Andrew agrees, unfazed. "You want me to get to it?"

"Do what you need to," Alec replies, discreetly squeezing Magnus' fingers when Andrew turns away. "So? What else do we do? Did you find anything out about those things? What he might be down there? Ciaran?"

"A little," Magnus agrees, casting a doubtful look up at the sky. "Though perhaps we should discuss it more inside."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

"So?" Alec says as he and Magnus return to the office, dropping down into the chairs beside the fireplace and warming their hands in front of the flames. The temperature outside has dropped a _lot_, and it doesn't feel much better here in the Institute either. "What did you find out?"

"I discussed it with Catarina," Magnus replies, absently waving his hand for two cups of coffee to appear on the table between them. "We are thinking that, if anyone, perhaps this is the work of the Kapantu."

"I haven't heard of those before," Alec says, thinking back over all of the Mundane myths and legends that fascinated him so much when he was young.

"I suppose they have had many names over history. Some call them the Kapantu, others the Patukavalarkal; it is only an approximation, however. These were people—_beings_—that lived long ago. And of course, we only have partial knowledge of them from tales in stories, and some very old pieces of art. It is difficult to separate out what is true from what is mere myth."

"So they're as old as, what, the Seelie Queen?"

"The Seelie Queen is a mere infant in comparison to the Kapantu," Magnus replies. It concerns Alec that he looks so worried. "These beings, Alexander. There are legends about them that predate so much of what we know. There are moments in history when stories arise of them returning, only to disappear without a trace many years later. We only have a few clues so far, but this is what Catarina and I suspect."

"What are the clues?"

"Lights in the water. A single, solitary human chosen to be a messenger, who seeks out the most powerful leader in the vicinity of where the Kapantu have currently chosen to reside."

"Sounding like these _Kapantu_ right now," Alec agrees, building a picture of these people in his head that he then can't shake.

"I think so. The stories Catarina and I uncovered, and remembered, speak of this human undergoing unnatural transformations right before the eyes of whichever leaders they have gone to."

Alec pictures the writhing, moaning twist of Ciaran's body, and the way he now looks, and shudders for it, that picture of the Kapantu reforming in his mind again.

"It's fitting so far."

"It was the spores which particularly jogged my memory," Magnus adds. "In the legends, they speak of this person, this figure, embracing that leader in a kiss that _changed_ them, or that… pacified him, for when the Kapantu reached shore. That paved the way for the overrunning of the city by these creatures once they had taken control over that leader's mind."

"Glad I put the glass between us," Alec says, laughing.

"As am I. I assume this _kiss_ really means the transference of these spores that have taken over Ciaran's body, made him what he currently is."

"So it's something that's between an airborne... I don't know, disease? And something else. Something passed more... intimately, I suppose?"

"I don't know; we don't exactly have a lot to go on."

"Well. We've prevented that from happening, if nothing else," Alec says, now picturing some kind of parasitic organism taking over the leader of Idris and carrying out who knows what orders under the guise of the Clave.

"For now. That we stopped Ciaran from spreading those spores I think just means more things are coming."

"Like what?"

"Alec," Magnus says, "you saw that mist descending on the city."

"You think they're going to, what, drop spores on us all?" Alec says in alarm, imagining the jerking, jolting bodies of millions of Mundanes, and being unable to stop it.

Magnus closes his eyes, fingers curled around the edge of his chair. When he looks again the uncertainty in his eyes turns Alec's blood cold. "I think the Kapantu are coming to shore, whether they have a newly appointed leader or not. Alexander. I think they intend to take over."

* * *

"You're telling me these things intend to take over New York?" Alec says, wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea. That scenario is something out of all those Mundane movies Simon gets so excited about.

"It's possible. I read a story just a couple of hours ago about a mist rolling in and descending over a city shrouding it in a dull, heavy cloud that smelled vaguely of the sea. Sound familiar?"

Alec thinks of the brine-smelling air he'd breathed in on the Institute steps and wrinkles his nose up, belatedly picking up his coffee for something else to be occupied by. "What else?"

"As I said, it described more lights appearing around the waters of the city. It spoke of the mist becoming more dense, and when the conditions were optimum for the Kapantu to live in, that they would walk on to the land."

"Walk. Like, on limbs?" Okay, Alec thinks, his images of this _Kapantu_ need to shift again. He's created them in his thoughts as having tails.

"I assume so. Though again, these are stories, legends; the details are all twisted into a story. How can we know which to separate out as fact, and which are pure fiction?"

"Well. What do you think they want New York for?" Alec asks, and he knows his questions are unfair since Magnus can't know much more than he does. But that look of such uncertainty in Magnus is putting him on edge.

"I don't think it's New York specifically. They go for any coastal city that is powerful, with strong leadership."

"They wouldn't just have gone for, I don't know. The Mayor of New York?"

"You think the Kapantu recognize any authority of leadership capabilities in _Mundanes_? Especially the current Mayor," Magnus asks with a wry smile. "They are ancient, Alexander. Probably drawn to the fact that there are Nephilim here."

"So, why the Institute?" Alec asks, "why not Lorenzo? They don't recognize Downworlders as powerful, or something?"

Magnus picks up his coffee, taking a thoughtful sip before answering. "Well. Perhaps the Kapantu need something more powerful than a Mundane, though more easy to corrupt than a Downworlder. Forgive me; the arrogance of the Clave throughout their history, when so many Shadowhunters have done all kinds of deeds for their own individual gain, is abhorrent."

Alec has no defense of the Clave to give him, nor would he want to. He's studied the Clave's histories far more thoroughly since being with Magnus. It makes him both ashamed and more determined to do better, to change the Clave for good. Though one problem at a time; first they have to deal with whatever these _Kapantu_ want; if they really are here.

"I'm glad Izzy isn't here," he says then, thinking of his sister starting her vacation and grateful she is out of harm's way.

"Our timing is impeccable," Magnus says in agreement, rolling his eyes though smiling.

"So. I guess we wait to hear from Jace? See what he sees down there at the park?"

"I suppose—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt again, but you have to see this."

Alec turns his head for Andrew rushing towards them, immediately crouching down to lean the tablet against the table so they can all look. It shows a Mundane news report being broadcast live from the banks of the Hudson. A crowd of Mundanes is forming and growing, though unlike other such gatherings Alec is struck by the silence of it all. The sky is thick and heavy, looking as though it is about to burst with a storm. But what sets his heart racing is when the camera pans back around to look out over the River. In the water, soft orange lights are blinking into existence even as he watches, drifting slowly towards the shore.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Gunfire rings out off-screen. Alec rolls his eyes at the typical Mundane response to shoot first, question later, expecting the city to erupt into chaos. He stands, ready to mobilize the Institute, to both defend the world as is their duty, and to save the Mundanes from themselves. Though he is stopped from doing anything as the camera pans around again to show an approaching military response, yelling and organizing along the riverside.

Each of the soldiers trains a weapon on a target in the water, the sound of their boots as more and more gather ringing out from the screen. Orders are yelled as they continue to mobilize, though whoever is yelling is paying no attention to the view. The river has started to shimmer, those orange lights blurring beneath the surface. For no helpful reason Alec can think of, the scene reminds him of a book he read on Jack the Ripper, of a painting with the faint orange light of a street lamp blurred in a thick, heavy fog.

Silence spills out from the screen then that is louder than any gunfire. Alec holds his breath as he watches, as each of those soldiers begins shuddering as one. Their backs becoming more rigid, their weapons dropping prone by their sides before clattering to the ground from their fingers. And then they turn with some unnatural military precision, beginning to march away from the shore.

Gasps ring out in the crowd, Mundanes backing away from the soldiers with looks of horror on their faces, before some of them turn and flee. Alec watches as one man in the crowd wielding a gun from the waistband of his jeans raises it and roars, running towards the water. Several more Mundanes follow suit charging forward, and Alec's heart begins to race for anticipating what is about to happen. Those Mundanes suffer the same fate as the soldiers, a shudder running through them all bringing them to a stop, their guns dropping to the floor, and that same, steady march sending them into the city.

"Surely they won't—"

Andrew's words are cut off even as he points to a police unit spilling from a van and approaching the water with their weapons trained. It takes seconds for them to turn, though as they do, the camera catches the look on their faces as they begin their march. Their eyes are large, a solid milky green color, with their mouths and noses contorting as they too transform. Exactly as Ciaran looks downstairs in their cells.

So, these Kapantu are... anyone who threatens them gets this happening to them?" Alec asks in disbelief as yet more police approach only to suffer the same fate.

"The who?" Andrew asks, with Magnus quietly filling him in on his suspicions.

Alec pulls his phone from his pocket flicking through the images and videos Jace has sent him from down by Lemon Creek Park. Everywhere he turns those orange lights flicker in the water, drifting closer, as more begin to form further out.

* * *

Night has descended on the city when Alec runs back outside to look at what is happening for himself. He can't tell how much of the dark sky is the passage of time or how much is this mist descending. Either way, the air is ominous, anticipatory, as though it too is watching to see what unfolds. Reports start pouring in from both Shadowhunters and Downworlders around the city of similar occurrences, of lights in the water, and anyone trying to attack being turned away like they are blank vessels being controlled from elsewhere.

It is bad enough to watch the Mundanes turning on his tablet screens, but seeing what happens to Downworlders and Shadowhunters is even more horrific. At least the Mundanes don't seem to be aware of what is happening to them. The Downworlders and Shadowhunters contort and writhe fighting against what is happening, their faces frozen in terror when they finally succumb.

"I have to report this," Alec says when Jace calls telling him he is taking a patrol out in the city. "We'll have to be put on quarantine. Just make sure no one threatens, or shows any sign of aggression, okay? We can't afford to lose even more people."

"Got it," Jace agrees, "we'll just keep an eye out. Try figuring out what's going on with these things."

"Have we any idea where all these people are going?" Andrew asks. He's been almost a constant presence by Alec's side for the past few hours. Along with Magnus, of course, who is poring over books, making phone calls, sending fire messages, and speaking to the few Downworlders who have made their way to the Institute for knowing he is here. Alec snags Magnus' hand as he passes with the phone pressed to his ear trying to give him a little reassurance, even though he feels none himself.

"No reports anywhere yet. They just seem to be walking."

"They have to be walking somewhere. Maybe we should follow some?" Andrew suggests. "If we know where they're headed, maybe we can... I don't know. Maybe we should try?"

"I agree with Andrew," Magnus whispers as he covers the speaker on his phone then goes back to his conversation, continuing to pace.

"Okay," Alec agrees, trying to picture the dwindling numbers of Shadowhunters in the Institute. So many of them are already out on patrols monitoring for any signs of unrest, consulting with Downworlders, and generally trying to help; even if currently no one knows what they're helping with. Alec calculates the skeleton staff they can keep now that Magnus has reinforced the wards.

"You want me to put a team together, sir?" Andrew asks, quietly urging Alec to make a decision.

"Yes. But to follow _only_. No engagement, no displays of attack, or bravery. Like you said, let's just figure out where all these people are going."

Andrew nods and turns on his heel, leaving the office. Alec splays his fingers against the desk allowing himself a moment to just breathe, turning his head and smiling for the warmth of Magnus' hand resting on his back. Their world is going to hell, but it doesn't feel as terrifying as it probably should do with Magnus by his side.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

"I don't suppose these stories you've been reading have any advice on how to stop these Kapantu?" Alec asks as he straightens up, pulling Magnus in by the waist.

"None yet," Magnus replies, leaning against him with a light grip on his arms. "Lorenzo has called a meeting with the warlocks. Perhaps collectively, we can come up with some ideas we haven't yet thought of."

"I offered to set up a Downworld Council meeting to bring everyone in together, see what we can work out as one. Seems no one wanted that," Alec adds, both frustrated and disappointed, though also not all that surprised.

"Alexander. It is instinctual to turn to those we know best in times of... unrest."

"I know," Alec agrees, claiming a quick kiss and sagging against him. "I get that. It's just... how are we ever going to change things for the better, if every time there's some kind of crisis, we all split off? Maia was here earlier to discuss this dispute with another wolf pack, but she just sent me a message to say now all the packs from around here are meeting down by the George Washington Bridge to come up with some kind of plan of attack. They've all seen these news reports, they know what happens when people show any kind of harm to these things."

"I am sure she will be careful."

"Not the point, Magnus," Alec says, groaning in frustration.

"I know," Magnus replies, patting his chest.

"And as for the vampires," Alec says, ready to scream almost for the sheer lack of cooperation and sense from the various clan leaders he's spoken to.

"What?"

"One I spoke to earlier was just _excited_ that they could spend more time outside, because this mist was blocking out the sun. Said he hoped it would last all week, or something."

Magnus' face twitches with him trying to control his smile, even as he nods in understanding. "Unhelpful."

"And I lost a Shadowhunter earlier because they decided to unsheath their Seraph blade and... brandish it at the water, threatening and goading whatever these things are to come out. I don't know where he is, where he's going, what's happening to him. Magnus; I don't even remember his _name_," Alec says, still frustrated for the phone call from Jace passing on the news.

"People can be foolish when threatened."

"People can be foolish always," Alec counters, wrapping him up in a hug before returning to his seat in front of the fire.

"Well. Perhaps we can try to figure out what they want. Aside from total domination of the city, of course. Let's hope it isn't _that_."

"I've been putting off letting the Clave know, hoping this might be something we can resolve ourselves. I can't imagine they'll send anyone through to _help_, but they need to know. They need to protect other Institutes, in case this thing spreads."

"I've spoken to High Warlocks from Australia, Hong Kong, and Johannesburg; even up in Anchorage. There is no sign of any such activity there."

"I called Institute Heads in New Jersey, and Delaware. Called Max," Alec adds, thinking of his brother and hating the deceptiveness of his call.

"How is he?" Magnus asks as he sits to join him, a fond smile on his face.

"Good. No sign of anything there either. I didn't ask directly, but everything sounds okay. Normal, guess."

"Well," Magnus says, leaning over and squeezing his thigh, "that is good to hear."

"Yeah. For now," Alec replies, unable to shake the feeling of helplessness and dread that is creeping through him.

* * *

Alec has just ended his call back to Idris when he hears the beginning of chanting. He looks across at Magnus in alarm then realizes it is from the footage of the security camera they have monitoring Ciaran downstairs. They both jump up to watch on the computer as the eerie, almost song-like chant grows louder, pouring from Ciaran even if he barely opens his mouth. It is almost as though his entire body is a mouthpiece, rippling and moaning as the words come out. they both jump back when a violent crack has Ciaran bending over backward before he rights himself again.

"_You are wanted_."

Alec's blood runs cold for the hissed voice he hears, swallowing as Ciaran's face fills the screen.

"_You are what they seek_."

"Is he talking to me directly?" Alec asks Magnus out the side of his mouth, as those pale green milky eyes bore into him through the screen without so much as blinking.

"I'm not sure?"

"_They are coming here. To reclaim what is theirs_," Ciaran adds with a gleeful, cold smile of triumph that makes Alec want to slam the laptop lid closed and march downstairs.

"The wards are solid," Magnus tells him, "nothing is getting in that you don't want to. Look at him; he is still behind that glass. He's made no attempt to get out."

It's true. Ciaran hasn't even looked for a way out of his cell. Though those spores have multiplied and coated every surface of it in a frond-like carpet that Alec can't help but picture as being more at home on a continental shelf, or sea bed. Yet despite Ciaran's lack of attempts to leave, there are still additional protections in place for not knowing what to inspect. Alec hopes that they will be enough.

A skid of boots on the floor calls Magnus' and Alec's attention. Andrew catches his breath leaning in the doorway with a look on his face that puts fresh dread in Alec's gut.

"Something's happening," he says, already turning and running, apparently expecting them to follow. Magnus looks at Alec then nods, both of them hurrying out.

The Institute is empty for all the personnel now spilling over the steps leading to it. A fearful hush has descended on them all, and it's difficult to make out much of anything beyond the Institute's grounds for how dark it is. Though then Alec follows the point of Andrew's finger and tucks his hand into Magnus' in alarm.

"I guess we don't have to figure out where anyone was going now," Andrew says, his voice laced with concern.

Those missing Mundanes, Shadowhunters, and Downworlders who had risen up arms against the Kapantu have returned to them. Empty shells marching forward to line a path that leads up to the Institute steps. When they come to a stop that eerie silence descends in deeper, putting the hairs up on the back of Alec's neck, meaning he jolts violently in alarm when his phone rings.

"Alec," Jace says the second he answers, "those people—"

"Yeah. They're here." Alec's eyes have now better adjusted to the dark. This _path_ is stretching far beyond the edge of their vision. There are so many of them. Surely all of them can't have been carrying weapons?

"They're making a path leading right through the city."

"Path to where?" Alec asks as he strains to look further, looking for _anything_ that might be of help.

"Down by Battery Park."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

"I'm going down there," Alec says, already charging down the steps.

"Alec, no."

Alec lets Magnus' hand slide down his arm then tangles their fingers together, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Well, I can't stay here. They're obviously coming here for a reason. If I get down there first, maybe—"

"And if you go down there—"

"I'll go unarmed," Alec says, patting himself down. All he has to hand is his cell phone. "Kind of have to. Second I show my bow, same thing as happened to all these people could happen to me."

Anything could happen. Everything about this entire situation is an unknown.

"Then, I'm going with you," Magnus says, turning so that they can walk together. "That way, I can make a portal if we need to make a quick escape."

"And what if you do that and they think it's a show of force?" Alec asks. He casts a look over his shoulder at Andrew not really needing to say a word. Andrew nods back and calls the rest of the waiting Shadowhunters together, leading them back inside the Institute.

"We'll figure something out."

"Do you... how long will it take to walk there from here?" Alec asks. There is no sign of any transport in the city either side of this _path_, and though he could use his speed rune to get there, a part of him is holding back from doing so. He doesn't know why.

"Maybe an hour?"

"So... we could portal nearby?"

"Oh," Magnus says in tease, nudging against his shoulder, "_now_ my portals are useful. I see."

Alec rolls his eyes and tugs on his hand so Magnus leans in for a kiss, then stands back watching Magnus as he works. They step through the portal and out again near the East Coast Memorial, that path of people lining the way just behind them. The path leads directly to the water's edge, finishing just to the right of where a river cruise boat waits for passengers. For how empty the streets seem to be aside from these people creating this path to the water, Alec thinks the crew have a while to wait.

"Okay. So, what do I do now?" Alec asks more to himself out loud than looking for guidance from Magnus.

"I suppose we could... offer to talk?"

"How? Do we even know what language they use?"

"I have no idea."

Alec squeezes Magnus' hand nodding for them to walk again. It would be pointless for him to ask Magnus to stand back. The wall of people in front of them part to let them through, which Alec takes as both a good sign and a bad one. They seem to be expected. What do these people really want?

At the end of the path, which Alec now puts at about six feet wide, is a railing supposedly to prevent Mundanes from falling into the water. It is peeled back and bent over, and where Alec is sure used to be a concrete wall, a slippery, slime-covered slope leads down into the water. Something he's not going anywhere near. Though when he comes to a stop in front of it a frenzied, electrified feeling hits the silence in the air behind them. The murky water surface begins to ripple and move, as figures begin to rise from beneath.

* * *

Alec's first thought when they begin to rise from the water is of an aquatic form of Seelie coming to stand before him. They are pale, with their skin almost translucent, a hint of green in both the flesh and what he assumes are veins beneath. There is webbing to their fingers, their lower limbs as steady as legs though not quite legs at all. Their hair resembles seaweed and other aquatic plants, and their bodies are draped in plant-like coverings like clothes. They are timeless, ethereal, and beautiful, Alec thinks, even if the growing number of them rising from the water is putting him on alert.

But it is their expression that makes Alec picture the Seelie Queen; steely-eyed with a permanent look of knowing, as though they may strike at any moment; though he doesn't know how, or with what. Those same milky green eyes stare back at him as Alec has seen on the faces of many today. How can he ask what they want?

Alec recoils as a limb extends towards him, sure that they are laughing at his reaction for the way it retracts. Though he is soon doubling over for a sharp jab at his temples, Magnus' voice muffled as he calls out to him in concern. They are in his head, _talking_ to him, with images and visions that he knows he has to interpret to figure out.

They show him worlds leagues under the sea, dark, and beautiful, and ancient beyond his comprehension. There are cities, and communities, and monarchies who reign over them all. There are armies, and establishments of education. There are institutions resembling healthcare, and governance, and so many similarities to a life lived on land that at first, Alec is reassured. Though their plans are soon revealed to him with images of warfare, and weaponry, of the intended violence for the Mundanes occupying the city who don't submit to their will.

"No," Alec says out loud, though knows he can't answer with words. He pulls up an image of the Institute, and the Shadowhunters residing in it, thoughts of protection, safety, and defense. Amusement fills the pictures he receives back that leave him grimacing for thoughts of the tortures and agonies Mundanes will know at their hands.

He sends back the thought of a question, trying to understand why they intend to take over as they do. The reply is one of boredom, of expansion, of idle time with nothing else to do. But also occupation, of dominance over the land that once turned them away. And then a fresh blast of anger hits those images, so that Alec begins to _feel_ the real truth behind their intentions; even if he doesn't quite have it all figured out yet.

Visions of shipwrecks rusting on ocean beds, coral reefs bleached without life, sea animals torn and trapped in plastic, and trails of trash covering the surface of the sea that stretch on for miles. They show him churning water, statues, and weapons, and other structures that are obviously manmade but centuries old. Again and again they show him images that Alec senses are taking him further back in time. The _anger_, and _contempt_ that the Kapantu hold for all of humanity is vicious enough to make Alec recoil.

Though Alec still doesn't think he can understand all of what they are telling him. His attempts to show how he plans to rise up, to protect people, earn him both images of those Mundanes, Shadowhunters, and Downworlders attempting to raise weapons against the Kapantu, and a shot of pain that surges through his body firing along veins and synapses until he collapses to the ground, gasping.

"_No_," he says when he sees Magnus' magic flare out in his hand. Alec feels laughter in his mind as Magnus helps him to his feet, both of them turning to look back at their _guests_. A taller one moves forward, separating from their numbers. Alec feels Magnus' jolt of surprise when they lift their limbs, and spirals of magic similar to his own rise up from them in an angry whirl.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

In a rush of activity, Alec finds himself dragged through a portal and back inside the Institute. He opens his mouth to object to Magnus pulling him back but stops for the look of terror in his eyes.

"Magnus. What is it?"

"Kapantu. These creatures. There is nothing about them having magic in the stories we have of them. I don't know what else they might be capable of."

"Well. I kind of figured that they had powers of some sort to be able to do what they're doing with that mist."

"Not necessarily. There are various ways they could be producing that particular shroud over the city that wouldn't involve magic of any sort. But Alexander, this magic; it is _powerful_."

"Powerful like... yours?" Alec asks, already imagining every worst case scenario.

"Similarly," Magnus agrees with a thick swallow, absently taking Alec's offered hand.

"Similar as in... warlock? Or as in son of Prince of Hell?"

Magnus' eyes answer the question without him saying a word. Alec tries to ignore the panic building in his chest. These Kapantu being from a sort of watery realm of hell is not what he'd been picturing, but then what could he possibly have imagined that would make any sense of any of this?

"Okay, well. We've dealt with things like that before," Alec says, thinking of the various successes and failures they've had with returning people to those realms.

"But not with things like this," Magnus points out, shaking his head.

"But we must have done, right? In our history, I mean. These stories, they're not—they must have been defeated at some point. Otherwise, the Kapantu would still be here."

"I suppose."

"Well. We have to do something," Alec says as he turns for a tendril of cold creeping up the back of his neck. He tells himself he is imagining the smell of sea salt in the air.

"We do."

"I mean, they're _here_," Alec says, his heart thudding, because he can now _feel_ them approaching. They both jolt in alarm when a shadow passes over the stain-glassed window of the office and settles there. Alec thinks of tentacles creeping over and covering the building, trapping them inside; is that his worked-up imagination or an image _they_ want him to have? He shakes his head to clear it and runs out to the ops center with Magnus close behind, all the other windows in the building suffering the same fate.

"What is it?" someone calls out in fear. Alec has no answer for them, only knows relief for seeing that Jace and Clary have made it back inside.

"Whatever it is, it is looking for weaknesses in my wards," Magnus says. Any other time Alec would smile for how indignant he sounds, but for now, he only watches him pulsing fresh magic around them, hoping that the wards will hold.

"So you think these things are some kind of... demon?" Alec asks when Magnus is finished.

"The world isn't divided into simple, clearly-defined categories of angelic, demonic, or Mundane, Alec," Magnus retorts. The harshness in his voice tells Alec just how frightened Magnus is by what is happening, which only makes him feel worse.

"Okay?"

Magnus swallows, turning a look of apology on him and squeezing his arm. "The Kapantu do not truly belong to any of those. They are ancient, Alexander; before so many of us. Our existence, anyway."

"So, they're not demon, or angelic? But another thing altogether?" Jace asks as he joins them having overheard Magnus' words.

"Yes," Magnus says, his eyes up on the ceiling as more lights flicker on to compensate for the darkness sealing them in. "Something we have no name for, or have forgotten the name of, for being so old."

* * *

As one, the occupants of the Institute fall to their knees, a hideous wail of melancholy filling everyone's ears. There is a high pitched screech behind it, and a lower, rumbling one that disorients them enough to scatter everyone to the floor. The noise rises and falls in waves, filling Alec's head with images of being at sea. The Institute becomes a vessel battling to remain intact against a violent storm, with a furious kraken rising up from below.

Alec lifts his head enough to catch Ciaran approaching; how the hell did he get out? Ciaran smiles as he walks surveying his surroundings, leaving a trail of water behind him as he steps on bare, elongated feet. Alec calls out but cannot move as Ciaran approaches the doors of the Institute, snapping the locks Andrew and some others had rushed to put up when everyone came inside. Ciaran throws the doors open wide, and Alec can feel the triumph _he_ feels as a rush of wind blasts its way in. He holds his head up for as long as he can to watch the Kapantu making their way up the steps, then drops it again for the agonizing piercing scream inside his head.

Alec crawls forward intent on shielding Magnus from whatever is coming, though from the look on Magnus' face he is trying to do the same. They cling to one another as a war of noise wages on around them, the air inside the Institute filling with something like a sea mist. There is an Institute-wide groan of agony that Alec is perhaps more prepared for than others, since _they_ have already been inside his head. He wants to close his eyes to the fresh images bombarding him, clinging on to Magnus, whose face seems even more tortured than Alec's thinks his own must be. Are they blasting him with memories alongside all those images that would hurt him even worse?

Magnus clasps on to his hand digging his nails in to get his attention. Alec looks him in the eye knowing he is trying to tell him something despite being unable to speak or move. His fingers squeeze over Alec's wedding ring, a burst of magic hitting his palm. Alec feels it working its way through his skin, and to his astonishment, he can now read Magnus' mind. Sort of. It is more of those images, blasts of memories _they_ have shared with him, warnings of what is to come that fill Alec with creeping dread. Magnus tries to comfort him, to reassure him they will still be here, that they will be together for what is to come, and that when that happens they only need to hold on for as long as it takes.

"_Not for you_."

Alec looks up to find Ciaran towering down over him with that same sickly smile he's been wearing for hours. Can he also read their thoughts?

"Not for you," he repeats, verbally this time, turning his head to the side to observe them with an almost-fond smile. "For you, Our Leader, there are things awaiting you, beyond your imagination. Things you have only dared dream of being a possibility."

Alec calls out as his body begins to arch in a violent curl, joining all the other bodies that are writhing and twisting around him, calling out in protests and agony. He sends all the love he can to Magnus through his thoughts feeling his own love flow back as he begins to succumb, begging for just a few seconds more to hold on.

"Oh, and don't worry," Ciaran says again as Alec loses his grip and begins slipping, "it is of benefit to keep you together. Our family will become yours. A little _patience_, Dear Leader. All will be well."

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

The air is tinged with a green humidity that makes it feel more like he is gliding through water than passing through air. _Good_. As it should be. All of this _emptiness_ will return to the humans one day, all that brightness and blue skies, and urban sprawl creeping back over the lands when their time here is done. But for now, he thinks, stretching out these new, long limbs, now it is time to really make themselves at home.

Those who rose against them are but empty vessels paving the way for their reclaiming of the land, here to serve the Kapantu as they please. They have guarded, rounding up those who resist, filtering out those who should first turn. They have begun the alteration of _industry_, and _manufacturing_, even returning the methods of transportation to the ways of old. The only birds flying overhead are feathered ones, instead of those with exoskeletons of metal. Those birds who dwell on the shores no longer fear the return of that black, thick sickness that stifles and suffocates whenever the humans aren't careful, which is always. It will take a while, but he knows the air will know sweetness again instead of dirt, and dust, and chaos.

In the days since his transformation, there has been so much to discover and explore. The last time he walked on land everything was so different, so much simpler, yet just as _corrupted_. These humans seem determined to speed up their own destruction in increasingly inventive ways; everywhere he looks there are signs of it. Though there are new things that he likes. Current communication methods are going to prove useful ones when they've reclaimed all the land surfaces. Almost anything in the world is his, if he only names his price.

He walks the city's streets, turning his head in interest for all the sights and sounds that his host Alec is remembering though not willingly sharing, still resisting even after the time that has passed. He has to probe a little deeper than he has in other hosts that he's known, though it's become easier with his _Magnus_ by his side.

He smiles at the hand laced through his own, looking into the eyes of the warlock who is home to his beloved, who he has loved for thousands of years. At least with these two hosts, their love is already old, and eternal. It's made breaking them in easier, in a way. Soulmates, the humans have always called their kind of love, which has always amused the Kapantu. There are some people in this life who are two halves of a whole, it is true, though that is little to do with having a _soul_.

They walk hand in hand to a coffee shop favored by the warlock, passing their essence on to the woman who serves them as they hand over coins in exchange for their drink and food. She shimmers, eyes widening as she adjusts then smiling back in recognition once transformed. His subjects are so _beautiful _wearing their new skin, he thinks, as his beloved leads them over to _Magnus' _favorite table.

This world is so silent, so still. All that chatter of the humans fades away since the Kapantu only need speak within their minds. He and his beloved can speak about anything, and everything, wherever they are, always in peace; _Alec_ recalls the last time he and Magnus were here, unable to hear themselves for how busy the coffee shop was.

On occasion they let Alec and Magnus speak too. They are not cruel, after all; really, they are only here to _help_. To save the humans from _themselves_. And isn't it better to have these particular humans on side at least, to make them a little more willing to share their bodies without too much protest? The last race of humans to allow the Kapantu free access to their bodies became such good hosts, living in the depths of the sea in near tranquility until recently disturbed. These humans can be like that. They should be _thankful_, really, that the Kapantu have come. It is their pollution, their greed, all the things they spill into the sea that provoked their attention this time. They should be grateful they will only be here for a while. A few decades, perhaps a century; it depends how long it takes them to cleanse the world of the stain and scarring caused by humanity. When the world is dominated by the Kapantu and free of humanity's corruption, they will return to the waters again.

* * *

They return to the Institute building, the echo of their footsteps ringing out through the halls. He turns into _his_ current office immediately opening the computer, now ready to begin the next wave of intervention.

Alec's brother fills the screen, and as _Max_ waves enthusiastically back at him Alec screams and wails in his head to be let out. He sends thoughts to soothe him, inviting Max and his father to visit as soon as they can. Magnus will even open a portal to get them here quicker. Izzy is due back this afternoon; it will be quite the family reunion.

"You will have all the time in the world to be with them," he tells his host, impatient for the anguish that he hears. He's become fond of Alec in the days he's been inside him, but sometimes the human is overly dramatic. And ungrateful; doesn't he realize as the current leader of the Kapantu, that new powers, new life flows through his veins, which will mean that he gets a life with his precious _Magnus_ for longer than he'd ever dared imagine? Not quite immortality, perhaps, though long enough to watch centuries pass by his side. And who knows? Anything is possible. Surely such an opportunity should be enough to appease Alec? Perhaps it will in time.

To the outside observer, the Institute continues as normal. _Alec_ still receives instructions from the Clave, patrols continue on the streets to keep everyone safe; not that _safety_ is really an issue anymore. Under the Kapantu occupation, humans are much more civilized. Though the patrols have proved an effective way to take root in new hosts. And Alec and Magnus' anticipated return to Alicante makes the first stage of their overseas occupation that much easier. He almost can't wait to get started, fascinated by the images of the city the two of them now call home when Alec can't avoid sharing them.

After lunch, an amusing mixture of foods that please both Alec and Magnus' palates, he is at his desk when he hears a commotion from the halls. He smiles, because it signals the return of Alec's sister. He has been so worried about her. She'll be safe and sound and one of them soon enough, so Alec's fears are unfounded, but he will be pleased to feel him less unsettled. And of course, to give _his_ sister her own host.

Izzy's voice rings out as she approaches; both he and Alec are glad that it is Magnus who is the one to bring her home from her vacation. Though he will take the honor of transforming her; it will be kinder, really, for her brother to be the one to do it, making them all family again.

"Izzy," he says, looking up from his desk, wearing Alec's smile as he rises, holding his arms out for a hug. "It's so good to see you."

"You too, Alec," she says, beaming with the contentment of a good vacation as she leans back to look at him. "I see you kept my Institute intact."

"Oh," he says with a smile as he slips from her embrace and closes the office door behind her, fingers trailing over the wood of it before turning back around. "I would say there have been one or two changes in your absence."

"Oh? Like what?" Izzy asks, hands on her hips as she looks around her office. She doesn't even really notice his approach.

"Yes," he says, taking her hand, catching the surprise in her eyes as she feels him. He watches Izzy shimmer, her eyes widen in understanding, and welcomes his sister home.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

Alec stands on the shores of Lemon Creek Park feeling the last tendrils of the Kapantu leach from him. The view of the clear blue water is one he sees with his own eyes for the first time in over a hundred years. The newness in the air is now _his_ to taste, and it is the hair on _his_ skin that bristles for the soft brush of the breeze. As always, Magnus is beside him, as he has been for every moment of this existence, as well as the one before it, and whatever is now to come.

"I love you," Alec says as he turns to Magnus, relishing in the feel of him beneath his palms. He's told him these words over and over for more than a century now. But to speak them with his own mouth, know that Magnus will hear them with his own ears, there is something worth _reveling_ in that.

"I love you too. Always," Magnus adds, sagging against him in relief as they kiss. They really will have a chance at an _always_. The Kapantu have made sure of that. As host to _leader_ of the Kapantu, Alec's body has undergone changes that won't be reversed. Though the same cannot be said of so many of their friends and family, whose bodies had aged, withered, and then died with the passing of time. It might take Alec another lifetime to get used to the idea that they are all now gone, that he and Magnus only got to say goodbye in their minds.

"So, I guess, everything goes back to normal now?" Alec says out loud more than asks. Though what does normal mean anymore? The Kapantu have cleansed this world of all the pollution and decay that was destroying it leaving it cleaner, and calmer in their wake. In hosts they helped develop clean, more efficient sources of energy, and methods of transport, and everything else to give them an incredible standard of life. Really, the world should live in peace and harmony now, free to recover from what has been taken from them for so long. Alec knows that won't ever happen, humanity far too self-serving and controlling to ever really remain idle. There will be wars and disputes within a year, of that Alec is sure.

"You sound like _them_," Magnus teases flattening his hands against Alec's chest. Their ability to speak only with their thoughts hasn't left them, then. Alec is adamant anything he has to say to Magnus from now on will be said out loud, to make up for being silenced for so long.

"I hate that they were right about so much."

"They weren't right to imprison us in our own bodies to make us change the world," Magnus retorts.

Being trapped inside their own bodies going about their days having no control, being able to feel everything happening around them yet have no way to participate in it; Alec knows the unimaginable hell that has been for most people because of first-hand experience. Yet for warlocks, in particular, having their own magic used without permission is an agony Alec doesn't think he can ever envisage. No matter how much of that agony he has tried to burden with their shared thoughts so Magnus didn't have to bear it alone. No matter how much _Kapantu_ magic he's spilled from his own palms as a host, that in ways he thinks might linger even now.

Recovery from that _imprisonment_ is going to be lengthy and painful for all who were left behind; the warlocks around the world, the generations of humans born into the world after the Kapantu first arrived; even the few Seelie with longer lives than most. There is an entire world of hurt and hatred that will call for retribution and blood, no matter how _good_ the world is now. Alec knows the day of that attempted retribution will come.

And he knows, better than anyone, how futile that attempt will be. He'll be amused, almost, to see who is first with the most arrogant of plan, Mundane or Shadowhunter; the Downworlders have always been far smarter than to get involved in things that will only bring them more harm. But Alec also already knows how the Kapantu will fight back if they see fit to respond to any war waged on them by _humanity_, and dreads it already. The best solution is to try to pretend the Kapantu never existed. He knows that they _won't_. But he doesn't want to think about that now.

"Magnus," Alec says as he takes his hand, squeezing over his wedding ring as an anchor for them both. "I know there is… _so_ much that needs to be done. That we should really do. For the Shadow World, for… everything."

Magnus smiles, knowing what's coming even if Alec hasn't really formed it as a thought. Magnus knows _him_, inside and out, in ways that were never possible before _them_. Alec thinks he can be grateful for that at least, though doesn't think Magnus will be ready to hear about that gratitude any time soon. Alec drapes his arms around Magnus' back and sways him in his arms, relishing in the feel of being able to hold him.

"But?"

"Magnus. Can we be… selfish, for a while? After everything that's happened. After losing almost everyone. Can we… can we just think of _us_ for now? I don't care about anything else."

We don't _have_ anything else, Alec thinks, clinging to Magnus tighter. He loves Magnus, heart and soul, with everything he is, and all that he'll ever be. He is luckier than most that this entire ordeal he's gone through by Magnus' side. That he is still here with him now at its end, and that there is a very long life for them together to come is, of course, a comfort. But they've lost so _much_. Simon and Catarina are somewhere out in the world, scattered by the Kapantu as they traveled to oversee the planet's _rejuvenation _as they called it. There are so few of them _left_. Alec wants to find them, to be with them to grieve for everyone that has passed. But first, he wants to _heal_. And he only wants to do that with Magnus.

"Yes, Alexander? What would you have us do?" Magnus asks to encourage him to speak; just hearing _Alexander_ out loud surges a twist of ache and adoration in Alec's heart.

"Well. I _think_ we are overdue a vacation. Don't you? When we're done, we have… _so_ much we need to do. But for now, I need _you_. More than anything. Magnus, more than ever, I need _you_."

It isn't just about a vacation. There are graves to visit, nightmares they'll no doubt wake screaming from clinging to one another, and time needed to recover from decades of the Kapantu's violation. They both need to get used to staring in a mirror and only seeing themselves reflected. They need to relearn what it is to be alone. Even the small details, like walking down a street looking at what _they _want to see instead of having their heads turned for them will be a novelty for a while, Alec is sure. More than anything, they need to feel comfortable in their own skin again. And since they are each other's home, it is only right that they do this together.

Magnus hums as he leans against him, closing his eyes when Alec ducks for a kiss. Alec wonders if the haunted look in his eyes will be there for a while, and if it's just a reflection of what is in his own.

"Well," Magnus says, clearing his throat and smiling, "the world is your oyster. Where would you like to go?"


End file.
